Posts Tagged ‘Old 97s’
REVIEW: The Von Ehrics, “Two Foot Stomp”
Every once in a while, I’ll get a record from a band that I feel like I should already know. As I’ve talked about (probably more than once?) I’m originally from Dallas, Texas, and I’m really proud of that fact. I’ll probably never move back to Texas, but being Texan is a huge part of my identity. Which is why when a band from around that area, especially one who broadcasts their geography, sneaks by my radar, I get a little suspicious.
The Von Ehrics are from Denton, which is really close– and they’ve got the same punk shuffle that helps make the Old 97′s so irresistible to me. I’m a huge fan of country music played with loud guitars, which is what usually comes out of that area– but I wouldn’t say the Von Ehrics are a country band at all. In fact, they remind me of a lot of the rock music I was listening to in the late 90′s– minus the soaring, screaming guitar riffs, which feel almost purely metal to me. The Von Ehrics are a complete departure from the rest of what I’ve been listening to, which is why Two Foot Stomp has flummoxed me; it’s different. It’s loud. And I really like it.
Taking their name from a ill-fated family of Texan wrestlers, The Von Ehrics combine a bunch of elements that shouldn’t work together; for example, in “Lord, I Pray,” they’ve got a gospel choir backing the lead vocalist, Robert Jason Vandygriff. Vandygriff has an uncharacteristically flawless and beautiful voice for punk– my husband said he thought it sounded like if Chris Robinson had a punk band. I think he’s even more polished than that. Which is part of why the band sounds so good; with a vocalist of his caliber, it’s easy to jump on board.
But the real standout, to me, is guitarist Clayton Mills, who seems to be able to pull over late-80s hair metal riffs without sounding in any way cliche. The riffs on this record are ridiculously strong; they’re interesting, they’re driven, and they’re intricate, all things which speak to the musical talent of the band.
In songs like “Rock ‘N Roll,” Vandygriff acknowledges the country musicians– largely Texan– that he respects and listens to, but says it’s “his radio, his choice,” and says he wants to listen to Black Flag or ZZ Top. There’s something attractive about the complete denial of the country influence– especially since it’s hard to listen to The Von Ehrics without hearing it. By taking the country and gospel song shells and speeding them up, they’ve created the illusion of rebellion that a punk band needs– all while making good music within the constructs of “Texas” music. It’s a complicated thing to pull off, but after more than ten years as a band, The Von Ehrics seem to have found their stride.
I think my favorite song on the record is “Goodbye/The Ride,” which starts with the slowest, most different track on the record. The “goodbye”– a kiss-off to a disloyal girlfriend–
It’s the same thing you see on daytime TV
Se’s been running around making a fool of me
Things are changing, tonight I’m going to hit that highway and ride
– is powerful in of itself because it feels like the first moment on the CD where Vandygriff is being absolutely sincere. That makes it even cooler when the music drops out and comes in double-time for the “ride” section of the song. In songs like this, you can really see how the band seems to be integrating all of their influences while managing to have a very distinct sound.
I also love the first track, “Last of the Working Slobs”, which has my favorite guitar riff on the record, and maybe my favorite musical moment, too, which is in the first chorus where the drums come to the forefront and slow the song down so Vandygriff can sing “Vi-et-nam!”.
The only issue with Two Foot Stomp is that by ten tracks in, I’m exhausted. The songs maintain a standard of quality and are all interesting and well-written– but by the time I get to the end, it’s a little much. I can’t imagine the kind of energy this band would have in concert, but they seem to be whiskey-soaked attention deficit disorder. In fact, the last song on the record, “Texas (When I Die)” features a familiar Texan bravado, but incorporates a bar-full of people singing along with the chorus–
When I die, I may not go to heaven,
I don’t know if they let cowboys in
If they don’t, just let me go to Texas,
Texas is as close as I’ve been
– however,apparently the bar manager where they were recording bought two bottles of whiskey to make sure all of the participants got a shot. I feel like that says everything about The Von Ehrics; they’re hard workers, but they’re hard players, and that comes across in every track.
On a side note: I’ve often said that my favorite rhyme of all time was Elliott Smith in “New Monkey” when he rhymes “junkie” with “monkey.” I’m easy to please; that’s all it takes to hook me in a song. In the “Subterranean Homesick Blues”-without-the-social-responsibility throwback “Down The Road Tonight,” there’s a lot of shout-singing and rhyming– where “junkie” and “monkey” are rhymed again. Thanks, The Von Ehrics– made my afternoon.
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CONCERT REVIEW: The Old 97′s, Mercy Lounge 7/9/2011
I’m always excited to be en route to see the Old 97′s– and in the last year, I’ve seen them four times. Their shows always offer something special and fresh for me, and their Saturday night Nashville show was no different. The Mercy Lounge provided the perfect venue– packed full of standing-room-only guests– and the acoustics were great. But anyone who has seen Miller & Co. live knows that it’s not about the tangible elements; an Old 97′s show is about half-manic-energy, half-magic.
Robert Ellis backing up Jonny Corndawg on “Garbage Day”
Robert Ellis, a 22-year-old Houston country artist, opened the show. I have never been so pleasantly surprised at an opener. I love seeing the Old 97′s partially for Ken Bethea’s guitar-acrobatics, but Ellis and his guitarist were both equally engaging to watch. When Ellis took the stage, it was quiet– he was the first of two openers– and within a few minutes of him opening his mouth, the crowd had been won. He started with some of his more delicate, beautiful songs– “Friends Like Those” and “Two Cans of Paint”– but quickly moved into some more rocking numbers. I haven’t been able to stop singing “What’s In It For Me?” since he played it. In some ways, he sounds like he’s following the Willie Nelson footsteps, but there are also moments where he reminds me of the Cosmic American music of the 70′s– even of Gram Parsons himself. Ellis has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve heard in a long time. I’ll restrain myself from commenting too much further, but you can expect coverage of his recently released record, Photographs, in the next week or two. I haven’t stopped listening to it yet.
Robert Ellis – What’s In It For Me by NewWestRecords
As if Ellis’s set wasn’t enough fun, Nashville-area legend Jonny Corndawg joined him onstage at one point to sing one of his songs, “Garbage Day”– and Ellis and the Boys killed it. They introduced it by admitting they’d never played it before, but if they hadn’t, no one would have known. They play with the chemistry of a much older band, and with the expertise of much older men. Ellis also covered George Jones’s “If Drinking Don’t Kill Me,” which is no small order– but again, I couldn’t have enjoyed it more. I keep saying I’ll stop going on, but his opening set was good enough that I would have driven to Nashville just to see it.
Those Darlins
Following Ellis were Nashville’s own Those Darlins, who took advantage of the hometown show. They clearly knew how to play to their audience at home– loudly, and with no hint of country. It was the perfect thing to follow Ellis because, in so many ways, the Old 97′s are a punk band with a country sound (or vice versa). By having two completely different (but similarly fueled and energized) openers, the crowd was perfectly prepared for the maddening awesomeness to come.
By the time the Old 97′s took the stage, I’d realized a few horrible truths: first, that the awesome table and chairs we had claimed when we first got there were completely obscured by crowd; and second, that at 5’1″, even if I was standing, I couldn’t see a thing, even one or two rows back. This led to the absolute best seat I’ve ever had at a show– standing on a chair up against the wall. I could feel the bass through my back pressed against the wall as “The Grand Theatre” kicked the show off. I got to stand up there for the entire show.
Rhett Miller (foreground); Ken Bethea (background)
My favorite part about going into an Old 97′s show is knowing that, no matter what they play, I’m going to be completely satisfied. I wasn’t sure how their new record having just been released was going to factor in, but the Old 97′s did a phenomenal job balancing the new songs I’m already loving (including their live debut of “You Call it Rain”) and the legacy songs that I’m always anxious to see. I was pleasantly surprised that they went into “Here’s to the Halcyon” second; I’ve loved that song since the first time I heard it and always considered it “mine”. It’s a really powerful experience to watch other people connect to a song that you’ve ‘owned’ and felt close to.
If I have to be honest, the most exciting song of the night (for me) was “Bel Air,” which I never get tired of; I love listening to crowds echo back, “I’ll stomp a mudhole in your heart!”. The sing-a-long element of an Old 97′s show is incredible– songs like “Big Brown Eyes” and “If My Heart Was a Car” have built-in places for crowds to yell. (Miller is really good at milking the, “I’ve got issues/ YEAH” in “Big Brown Eyes”.) And speaking of “If My Heart Was a Car”– Ken’s vampy, slow guitar intro on that song now is an absolute classic, and the way it amps up the tension of, “It’s a long way/ Back to El Paso…” is something that I can’t explain with words. I’m consistently blown away by how good their music feels live.
Each member of the band puts in more than their fair share of energy. The fact of the matter is that the Old 97′s are a band with two songwriters talented enough to be frontmen, one of the most frighteningly talented live guitarists I’ve ever seen, and a drummer who works like a machine. Murry flies on the bass, and Rhett manages to scream through half of the songs, and then come back in the encore and sing sweet, slow acoustic songs. Phillip keeps the whole show sped up; it’s almost like his trademark shuffle becomse the collective heartbeat of the entire venue. On songs like “Please Hold On While the Train Is Moving”, where there are two distinctly different sections, they are clean and slick live, which is a difficult feat to pull off when there’s so much messy kinetic stage presence.
The chemistry between the band members and the audience is palpable; Ken Bethea stalks from side to side, making sure to share riffs with both sides of the audience; but the chemistry between the band members themselves is really phenomenal. Murry and Rhett seem to have a running dialogue back and forth, and during the encore, the audience was treated to a brief “Ranchero Brothers” show, with just Rhett and Murry. It’s amazing that Rhett can scream through “Barrier Reef” and then come out and sing the sweet high back-up vocals in “Valentine.” (“Valentine” was also pretty special for me, personally; I’d been dorkily jumping and dancing from atop my chair all night, and in the middle of the song, Rhett walked over to my side of the stage and made a nice comment about it. One of the coolest things that’s ever happened to me at a concert.)
Murry Hammond
Other highlights of the show, for me, include “Designs on You”– the line, “This will be our secret thing/ I won’t tell a soul/(except the people in the nightclub where I sing)” is pretty surreal in that setting– “Rollerskate Skinny” (which, again, as a short girl, has always felt anthemic); Murry’s “West Texas Teardrops”; Rhett’s solo encore performance of “Singular Girl” (which was one of the most genuine, sweet moments of the night; the way his voice catches in the verses seems to have only gotten better over the years); “No Baby I”; and of course, Ken’s face-meltingly-ridiculous “Marquita,” an instrumental which is especially powerful in a live setting. “White Port”– a hobo song which promises to become as permanent a fixture in their live canon as “Timebomb”– was also fantastic, and watching the audience sing along with such a new song was pretty invigorating, too. “Bright Spark (See What I Mean)” already feels like a broken-in classic, as well.
My advice? Catch the Old 97′s on this tour. The new songs are too good to miss live, and if you’re lucky and catch them in the next few weeks, you get the added benefit of checking out Robert Ellis and the Boys, who promise to be one of the most interesting, talented up-and-coming country bands I’ve seen in a long, long time. I’m going to include the set list (courtesy of KDR Reader Clay Dunker), and the tour schedule–
SET LIST:
The Grand Theatre
Here’s to the Halcyon
I’m a Trainwreck
Bel Air
West Texas Teardrops
Lonely Holiday
Marquita
Bright Spark (See What I Mean)
No Baby I
Rollerskate Skinny
Please Hold On While the Train is Moving
Question
You Were Born to Be In Battle
You Call It Rain (first time ever live)
Barrier Reef
Visiting Hours
Big Brown Eyes
Designs on You
White Port
Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You)
If My Heart Was A Car
4 Leaf Clover
ENCORE
Singular Girl (“you got the teeth of the hydra upon you” included)
Fireflies
(Ranchero Bros)
Valentine
(Old 97′s)
Jagged
King of All The World
Timebomb
7/12 – Asbury Park, NJ – Stone Pony
7/13 – Brooklyn, NY – Bell House
7/14 – Brooklyn, NY – Bell House
7/15 – Wellfleet, MA – The Beachcomber
7/16 – Greenfield, MA – Green River Festival
7/18 – Chicago, IL – Lincoln Hall
7/19 – Chicago, IL – Lincoln Hall
7/20 – Minneapolis, MN – First Avenue
7/21 – Kansas City, MO – Crossroads
7/22 – Oklahoma City, OK – OPOLIS outdoor stage **NOTE VENUE CHANGE**
7/23 – Arlington, TX – Texas Rangers Game
8/12-14 – San Francisco, CA – Outside Lands Festival
8/16 – San Diego, CA – House of Blues (w/ Josh Ritter)
8/17 – Los Angeles, CA – The Wiltern (w/ Josh Ritter)
ROBERT ELLIS
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OLD 97′s
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“I’ll say ‘I love you’, what the heck”: a review of The Old 97′s, “The Grand Theatre Vol. 2″
STREAM ALL OF THE GRAND THEATRE VOL. 2 at KXT.COM
Guys, it’s my favorite time of year– Old 97′s record release time. It’s no secret that here at KDR Headquarters, the Old 97′s are in constant, unrelenting play, and as much as I love spinning their records until they wear thin and break, it’s always good to have another to throw in the rotation. These days, when the Old 97′s release a record, it’s less like the butterflies of a first date, and more like the anxiety that goes with a third: I already know that I like them. But how much do I like them?
The Grand Theatre Vol. 2 is a follow-up to the brilliant Vol. 1 (which was released in the fall). That record, which roared onto the stereo with the title track and whispered out with “The Beauty Marks,” felt like a pretty clear map to where Vol. 2 would go. Probably a reprise, and a pretty linear start-to-finish.
So to say “Brown Haired Daughter” was a surprise is a huge understatement. Rhett’s breathless intro, Ken’s trademark guitar– this song would fit in on literally any Old 97′s record (which makes sense: the song in a different form was demoed on Fight Songs). The lyrics are the perfect blend of creepy and mournful: the plot is vague, but one thing is clear: this girl’s parents don’t want Rhett Miller anywhere near her.
And I tried, tried to leave it all alone
Send your brown-haired daughter home
But I can’t
So I won’t
And you should hear my heart curse
The song has the alt-country twang you’ll be expecting, but reminds me of the darkness in songs like Murry’s “Crash On the Barrelhead,” and to a lesser extent, “Bel Air.” Often, when the Old 97′s are writing songs like this, there’s a strain of humor in them– but “Brown Haired Daughter” really packs a cool punch. The best line, for my money, is at the end of the chorus when Miller croons, “But it’s not my fault she loves me.” This song could be Romeo & Juliet, but it could be something much darker. I can’t be more pleased with the lead-off single, and honestly, I think this record starts off stronger than Vol. 1.
DOWNLOAD “BROWN HAIRED DAUGHTER” FOR FREE AT THEIR FACEBOOK
And while I hate to compare the two discs, it’s impossible not to: any time you get a double record, especially if the release is split like this one, comparisons are inevitable. For one, I’ve had time to get to know Vol. 1– I’ve spent months with it. I already know “You Smoke Too Much” is track 9– I already know that my favorite break down on the record is in the middle of “Please Hold On While the Train is Moving.” So while I’m discovering Vol. 2, it’s knee-jerk to say, “Wait, does this sound like…?”
And it does! The last song on the disc, “You Call It Rain,” is where I finally found my direct comparison. The same guitar part from the interlude in “Please Hold On While the Train is Moving,” the track ties the records together perfectly. The last lines on the record–
I’ve believe that love finds a way
What did you expect me to say?
You call it ‘too late’
I call it ‘a chance for a second wind’
We can go back
Way back to the way it was way back then
Right now is a pretty good time
– seem to express why it is I love the Old 97′s in the first place. You cannot snuff out the Old 97′s– long after the record has stopped, the music smolders on. They are full of life, love– and yeah, sometimes pitfalls– but they keep coming back, harder, longer, and better than before. I don’t know many rock bands you can say that about– but even as much as I love early records, as much as I love Wreck Your Life, I wouldn’t trade the Old 97s as they are right now for any other incarnation. And maybe it’s because they really haven’t changed much…
The song “Ivy” has been around in some incarnation for well over a decade, but it’s finally made its way onto a record here. Starting with the line, “Ivy’s got a boyfriend… problem, Ivy’s got a creep,” “Ivy” has all the trademarks of a classic Old 97′s song: re-appropriation of cliches (“tell it to the jury, yeah, tell it to your mom”), Ken’s killer guitar riff in the middle, Rhett’s talking about being a writer– this song is an instant classic. (Or maybe not so instant– it’s been around for a while.) (For my money, the best line is, “What I’ve got to offer’s academic”– for whatever reason that cracks me up.)
Like every Old 97′s record, all of the songs are great and my favorites rotate, but the best thing about them is how they balance each other out. Murry’s (not!) pirate song “White Port” employs a gang vocal that gives the song a light-hearted feel that was desperately needed at that point in the record. (For what it’s worth, this is a great track: Murry always adds so much to the records. I’ve always gravitated towards his sweet voice, and on this track, you can actually hear him yodel– something he’s great at.) “I’m A Trainwreck” instantly lightens the mood created in “Brown Haired Daughter.” Perhaps the most “97′s” title on the record, “Trainwreck” came with it’s own buzz: I’ve heard everything from “Beatles-y” to “sounds like the Monkees”. So… yes. Yes to both.
This song also reminds me (though in a vague, I can’t say why way) of “The Magician”– Phillip’s drums really shine here, and the attitude, as always, comes through in the guitar riffs. Some of my favorite lyrics on the record are here–
You wonder what’s in store
We’re gonna waltz across the floor
We’re gonna wind up in a heap
We’re gonna laugh ourselves to sleep
I’ll say, “I love you,” what the heck
I’m a trainwreck
The Old 97′s have been working with Texas-based producer/songwriter Salim Nourallah since Blame it on the Gravity, and while I have argued that he’s the best producer for the band since then, I feel like all of my arguments were fulfilled on this record. Nourallah has an uncanny ability to– I don’t know if he predicts where they’re going and meets them there, or if he lets them do their thing and adds touches as he goes, but Nourallah seems to know when to interject for the purposes of clarity and when to let them go. While every once in a while I’ll think, “There’s Salim,” he’s largely absent from this record– or at least, he seems to be, which makes him a perfect producer for the record. Honestly, I wouldn’t have seen “The Actor” as something that would get through him unpolished, and I’m so grateful it did.
“The Actor” is one of the rockiest songs I’ve heard in some time. Rhett’s vocals are strained and wild; the story of a sad, cynical actor who’s spent his whole life trying on other people– “It’s such an awful life, faking these feelings and bumbling around”– but the resolution, “He is ours, for the next two hours, he is ours beneath the lights,” seems to be almost as much a description of a rock ‘n roll audience as much as it’s social commentary. The persona is interesting because it’s pretty clearly a put-on (this guy doesn’t even remotely resemble the friendly, family guys in the band)– that adds a “meta” layer to the lyrics. This is a song where Rhett Miller pretends to be a man who pretends to be other people. I also love the beginning– they leave in enough band banter here to satisfy me.
I hate to wind the review up here (though my word count is begging for mercy), because there are still some songs that absolutely have to be addressed. The single, “Perfume,” is the follow-up to The Grand Theatre Vol. 1‘s “The Dance Class”– the agoraphobe finally gets the girl, but it doesn’t fix his problems. It’s got a really sweet tune to it, and this character manages to become more lovable in each lyric.
But my favorite song (that I haven’t mentioned yet)– is the country-honk tune “No Simple Machine.” The lyrics here are a more mature version of the stuff you’d find on Too Far to Care– the same rake, the same setting, but a completely different swagger. Instead of being “the guy who talks funny”, Miller’s posing himself as the alternative in this song: and there’s really something great about the phrase “no simple machine,” in of itself.
Women go crazy for guys who talk funny
And men who treat them mean
But you deserve better than that my friend
You are no simple machine
I guess it comes as no surprise that I think this record is brilliant. I love the Old 97′s, and this record seems to have more of their essence than even the last Grand Theatre. It’s also got stellar production: Nourallah knows when to step up and when to back off. The musicianship is at an all-time high– the band has been playing together for so long that they almost function as one unit, instead of many parts. Ken’s guitar is crunchy and mean; Rhett’s vocals are some of his most exciting in years; Phillip provides the classic Old 97′s shuffle; and Murry, as always, adds some killer songs and great harmonies. This record is fantastic, and not to be missed. I can’t wait to have the hard copy in my hands next week.
READ THE “SONG A DAY” RECAPS AT THE OLD 97′S WEBSITE TO HEAR FANS + MURRY DISCUSS THE TRACKS
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CONCERT REPORT: Old 97′s at The Vogue (Indianapolis, 4/3)
This evening wouldn’t have been possible without Murry’s incredible kindness, first in doing an interview for this blog, and second, for keeping in touch after things got interesting. Thanks, Murry, for a wonderful night, and for shaking my hand and meeting me after the show. I can’t say how much I needed a night like I got with the Old 97′s.
If you want to see an amazing show, catch the Old 97′s when they’re close to you…
4/05 – Columbus, OH – Newport Music Hall (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/06 – Toronto, ON – Horseshoe Tavern (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/07 – Rochester, NY – Water Street (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/08 – Boston, MA – Royale (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/09 – New York, NY – Webster Hall (w/Kevin Devine)
4/10 – Washington, DC – 9:30 Club (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/12 – Charlottesville, VA – Jefferson Theater (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/13 – Carrboro, NC – Cat’s Cradle (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/14 – Charlotte, NC – Visulite Theater (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/15 – Knoxville, TN – Bijou Theater (w/ Teddy Thompson)
4/16 – Birmingham, AL – Workplay Theatre (w/ Teddy Thompson)
5/26 – Denver, CO – Bluebird Theater
5/27 – Denver, CO – Bluebird Theater
5/28 – Salt Lake, UT – Urban Lounge
5/30 – Quincy, WA – Sasquatch Festival
5/31 – Spokane, WA – Bing Crosby Theater
6/01 – Portland, OR – Doug Fir
6/03 – Petaluma, CA – Mystic Theater
6/04 – Sacramento, CA – Harlow’s
6/05 – San Juan Capistrano, CA – The Coach House
6/06 – Scottsdale, AZ – Martini Ranch
6/07 – Tucson, AZ – Plush
6/09 – San Antonio, TX – Sam’s Burger Joint
6/10 – Austin, TX – La Zona Rosa
6/11 – Lubbock, TX – The Blue Light
SXSW Report
Hello, Internet! My absence was a little longer than planned, but totally worth it. I was in Austin on March 18-19 for SXSW. I largely went to see amazing music blogger Ryan Spaulding’s (Ryan’s Smashing Life) showcase, Smoke & Sand. My first advice to all of you reading is to go to Underwater Sunshine and download the sampler from the showcase– it features one song from each of the 21 bands that performed.
Then! Come back here and read my (awe-struck, breathless, probably too long) recap!
I’d never been to a music festival, so the scale of SXSW didn’t really make sense to me until I got there. I got in a cab from the airport (with a driver who felt comfortable explaining to me that the problem with America is that the government staged 9/11, and the only way we are ever going to make progress is to “revolt”; my favorite thing he said was, “I’m not a violent man, but unless we do what Egypt and Libya are doing, we’ll never be free.”), and told him I needed to be on Sixth Street. He laughed. For good reason– the streets were blocked off, and pedestrians roamed freely, moving from bar to bar, 30 minute set to 30 minute set.
I started at Jack White’s Rolling Record Truck, which was super awesome, but I pretty quickly changed plans and wound up at lunch with a friend, Chris (self-proclaimed third-tier Internet celebrity) and Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows (who you probably recognized without the band title if you are a regular reader). We had lunch at Stubb’s and caught part of AM before all splitting up to take care of various obligations.
My obligation wound up being the coolest one; Chris and I caught a SMOKING Old 97′s set at Barberella (which kicked off with “The Grand Theatre” and included “State of Texas” (pretty cool in Austin), “Doreen” (one of my all time favorite) and a raucous version of “Big Brown Eyes”, which always features Rhett thrashing in the guitar riffs. Amazing. Murry also took lead vocals to sing one of my all-time favorite Murry songs, “West Texas Teardrops.”)
The next band to take the stage was Middle Brother (who you can expect to read more about on this site, soon). They’re a super group made up of bands I’d normally acknowledge as talented but don’t listen to very often: Dawes, Deertick, and Delta Spirit. To say they were one of the best shows I’ve ever seen wouldn’t give them enough credit. It was insane. Everyone on stage could sing lead; everyone on stage seemed to be the best musician there. For my money, the best song was “Portland”, though the last song– Sam Cooke’s “Bring It All Back Home To Me”– featured members of all three bands that AREN’T in Middle Brother and Jonny Corndawg, all switching off on who sang and played. Just amazing. Grateful to have wandered in to the Barberella set.
I spent most of Friday meeting people and shaking hands, which was wonderful– I was pretty exhausted, since I’d been traveling all week, and things were more than a little bit hectic throughout. But by Saturday morning, I was ready for the showcase I came to see– Ryan Spaulding’s & Tyrannosaurus Recs’ Smoke & Sand.
Smoke & Sand featured 21 bands on 3 stages, so of course, two of the people I was most excited to see were on at the same time. Kasey Anderson and NOTAR, both of whom have been featured on this blog, played against each other on opposite stages at the venue. This caused me great anxiety from the moment I realized it, haha. But I pretty quickly got into the music around me.
Brooklyn band The Shondes opened on the patio, and even though the noon slot was the “6 AM rock slot” according to them, they set a great tone for the event. Just amazing energy. I spent most of the afternoon on the patio, because it was nice outside, and the line up was killer.
Following The Shondes was Boston-based Mean Creek, who I’ve heard nothing but good things about. From “they’re the best band in Boston right now” to “the best live show I’ve seen in years,” I was expecting big things. They did not disappoint. The set was chill-inducing. They’re going to be opening for (also amazing) Buffalo Tom later this year, and I am making seeing that line-up a priority. Fantastic music.
I darted inside to watch some of Stereo Telescope, too, and was impressed by what an amazing stage show they could put on as a duo. I’ll be reviewing their album in the near future, too.
I caught most of the Bodega Girls set on the patio, and was impressed by how much glam they were able to infuse into what would have otherwise been pretty predictable “hipster” music. The bands at S&S were so different, but that was a lot of the appeal; you could see three or four very different acts in the span of just a few minutes.
OK. Now it was the scary time slot. I wound up starting at NOTAR (because he is NOTAR, and that is enough reason). I love “Matador” so much that I knew I would be unhappy if I missed it. I was not disappointed– if anything, NOTAR has gotten BETTER since I saw him with the Traveling Circus this summer. His band is tighter, and the whole thing just sounds raw and mean. He played some stuff of the forthcoming album Devil’s Playground, which I am now waiting on pins and needles for.
Then I ran to the other stage to catch the end of Kasey Anderson’s set. He was plugged in with the whole band (which is kind of a who’s who of the Seattle scene: every musician onstage is a professional, in every sense of the word). Andrew McKeag (also of Presidents of the United States of America) played one solo that was so mind-blowing that even though I could never re-create it, it has to have been the best thing I saw the whole week. One solo. That’s how amazing it was. The rest of the Honkies features Eric Corson (bass, also of The Long Winters), and Mike Musberger (drums, The Posies).
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If You Want to Rob a Bank… Songs About the Heist
Sometimes, on a lazy Saturday full of TV and pajamas, it’s easy to see that I am absolutely not a bank robber. I lack not only the criminal genius, but the motivation, the adrenaline– really, every part of bank robbing eludes me. But it also seems to be the time when I’m most likely to listen to songs about robbing banks. It seems like the more relaxing my day is, the more willing I am to take a risk in my imagination.
SO. I have a whole list of amazing bank robbing songs. And sadly, I’m not kidding. Here’s my first favorite– Better Than Ezra’s “A Southern Thing.”
From the first line– “Kelly was a blackjack dealer living in the gulf of Mexico/ Kelly had a taste for guns and pills, he was looking for a mark to roll,” the tone is instantly set. There’s this swagger in the guitar, and there’s a twang to the song that makes you feel felonious. (I think. Like I’d know. The most intense thing I’ve ever done is parked in a “No Park” zone.) Vocalist Kevin Griffin really nails the balance between narrator and being a part of the story– the song is in third person, but the chorus is in first. It’s really difficult to listen to this song and not get involved in their heist.
2. Barenaked Ladies, “Bank Job”
OK, so this song is a little more lighthearted (though the acoustic version has a pretty ironic seriousness to it). The first line actually starts AFTER the robbery– “It was an upset, in two minutes flat/ We were back on the freeway, our foot to the mat”– but it quickly becomes a song about a robbery-gone-wrong.
We all had our ski masks
And sawed-off shotguns
But how do you plan for
A bank full of nuns?
Excellent. Excellent twist, Barenaked Ladies. I don’t feel quite as cool as I do while listening to Better than Ezra talk about where they’ll go if they make it out alive, but I also don’t feel quite as much like I’m going to prison. Different strokes, I guess.
3. Old 97s, “The One”
So, this might be more about cheating a record company than robbing a bank, but it’s the same principle, and honestly, I feel just as cool when listening to it. Legend has it the song was written a long time ago, but just made Blame It on the Gravity because, well, it’s relatively antagonistic towards the music industry, haha. But the song is pretty funny– the first line, “I’ve got a check for nothing/ All made out to someone/ I truly love, myself,” sets up a “money for nothing” scenario, and it gets better from there. In the middle, they do decide to actually knock over a bank– “Ken, pick this bank at random/ I said, do we shoot them?/ He said, either way’s all right”. Overall, though, the best part of this track is how fun it is. Miller & Co. never disappoint.
(*In a related story, if you like the Old 97s, Murry Hammond’s solo disk “I Don’t Know Where I’m Going, But I’m On My Way is currently up for FREE HERE.)
4. Steve Miller Band, “Take the Money And Run”
It’s impossible to talk about bank robbing songs without discussing this song. So, a disclaimer: I have a ridiculous, unabashed, unashamed love of all things Steve Miller Band. (Yes. That DOES include “Abracadabra.”) This song is no exception. The idea to rhyme “El Paso” with “hassle” is one of my favorite artistic choices of all time. Just… wow.
5. Robert Earl Keen, “The Road Goes On Forever”
This song is another classic. It always makes me think of my dad– he always tried, as a kid, to get me interested in classic and renegade country music, and I was, you know, 12, and uninterested. (*This has, of course, changed– one day, I listened to one of his Gram Parsons records, and it feels like I’ve lived a new life ever since.) This was one of the songs, though, that he won me over with early on. I remember when it came on, him saying, “Just give it a chance, listen to the story.” And wow. THIS is a song about how to rob a bank! Though the last verse has a fun twist, my favorite is the one just before that–
They left the lawman lyin’ and they made their getaway
They got back to the motel just before the break of day
Sonny gave her all the money and he blew her a little kiss
“If they ask you how this happened, say I forced you into this”
She watched him as his tail lights disappeared around the bend
The road goes on forever, and the party never ends
6. The Refreshments, “Banditos”
So, I told my husband that I liked bank robbing songs, and he said, “Like “Banditos”?” What’s really sad is my response, which was something slightly less articulate than “Huh?” Somehow, I missed this gem. (Which probably means I was still in my “if it’s not Motown, I’m not listening” phase when it was all over the radio.) For starters, I have a real jones for songs that start with conjunctions– so a song that kicks off “So just how far down do you want to go,” is going to be an instant hit with me. But the best part of the song is the line, “Well, I’ve got the pistols/ So I’ll keep the pesos/ Yeah, I think that’s fair.”
Best. Lyric. Ever.
So, despite the fact that I’ll never do anything like rob a bank (and the fact that there are several other AWESOME bank robbing songs), these are the ones that always make me feel, vicariously, like I’ve done something awful. Which is, when vicarious, not always such a bad thing.
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Please Hold On While the Train is Moving: A Review of the Old 97′s "The Grand Theatre Volume 1"
Can’t Wait: The Old 97s "The Grand Theatre Volume 1" out October 12
I keep dropping in to make quick announcements, but this is important. The Old 97s are releasing their eighth studio album on October 12th, and it’s eventually going to be a double-feature. (In 2011, they’ll release the counterpart.)
2. Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You) by Old 97′s
3. The Magician
4. You Were Born To Be In A Battle
5. The Dance Class
6. Let The Whiskey Take The Reins
7. Champaign, Illinois
8. A State Of Texas by Old 97′s
9. You Smoke Too Much
10. Love Is What You Are
11. Please Hold On While The Train Is Moving
12. The Beauty Marks
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DESERT ISLAND RECORD #1: The Old 97s "Wreck Your Life"
Rhett Miller onstage at the Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas TX, Dec. 2009
I was ten years old in 1996 when the Old 97s released “Wreck Your Life” on Bloodshot Records. Even if I had mistakenly heard some of the jangly, bar-band country music on the radio, I would have almost certainly turned it off. Which is why it’s strange that years later, this is one of the albums I always return to.
The Old 97s are hard to describe: they aren’t a country band, they aren’t a punk band– but elements of both genres are present in every record. They, along with bands like Son Volt, the Jayhawks, and Whiskeytown, helped issue in the rise of alt-country in the 90s.
None of that has anything to do with why, when I am at my most raw, when I am alone and at my core, their music speaks to me. Maybe it’s the Dallas thing: maybe there’s something about coming from DFW that helps me relate to the music. For the most part, though, it’s a mystery, even to me.
“Wreck Your Life” is often thought to be their best album, perhaps because of songs like the album’s opener, “Victoria”. The opening riff– immortalized, almost certainly, by their exceptionally talented guitarist, Ken Bethea– is epic, not for the skill required to play it, but for the sheer power to compel the rest of the song. My physicality changes when I hear that bar of music– I know what’s coming, and I’m always excited to hear it. (To listen to “Victoria”, visit this link.) Even though I know every word to this song and know it probably as well as a person can know someone else’s song, I still can’t say why it speaks to me. The lyrics are playful– very rarely does a song have a protagonist like Victoria.
“She lost her lover to an accident at sea
She pushed him overboard, and ended up with me”
But overall? I can’t say. I just know that when it comes on, my mood changes. I’ve always been someone who listens to sad, pensive music, even when I’m happy, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve had to find albums that I know will help pull me out of a hard time instead of keep me stuck. “Wreck Your Life” is that album.
By this time in their career, Rhett Miller– vocalist, lyricist, guitarist– had perfected his trademark Southern drawl, which was sometimes a little overwrought on their first recording, “Hitchhike to Rhome.” This is most evident on songs like “Doreen,” which was re-recorded from a (much, much rougher) version on their first album. (To listen to “Doreen,” click here.) Again, Doreen drinks too much, loves recklessly, and is probably cheating on the narrator– but there’s something absolutely addictive about the tension and speed of the music. Phillip Peeples, the drummer, is always excellent at keeping time, but in songs like this, it feels like he’s the only thing holding the band steady.
Drinking, infidelity, and broken hearts are all mined for subject matter. None of those are things I really deal with in my life. I don’t know why songs like “The Other Shoe” (a murder ballad) and “Dressing Room Walls” speak to me.
My best guess is that Miller is an expert storyteller. Not that the stories are complicated, or mind-blowingly original: but they are so painfully specific. Even though I have never been as anxiously lonely as he is in “Big Brown Eyes”–
“A box of red
And a pill or three
I’m calling time and temperature
Just for some company”
– I can easily relate to the character he’s talking about.
You don’t want me anymore
Since fame and fortune broke down our door
…and if that phone don’t ring one more time
I’m going to lose what’s left of my mind
You’ve made a big impression for a girl of your size
and now I can’t get by without you
And your big brown eyes”
(Listen to “Big Brown Eyes” here.)
And it wouldn’t be an Old 97s album without a few covers: Murry Hammond, the bassist (and one of the most brilliant bassist/guitarists I’ve ever seen, in his own right: just a spectacular musician) sings the old Bill Monroe song, “Sweet Blue Eyed Darlin’”. The also do a song originally written by Mexican composer Agustin Lara, “You Belong to My Heart,” which again, makes me think that the reason I’m attracted to this music is because it reminds me of home. This album incorporates the best part of Dallas: the problems young professionals face, the painfully American lyrics/music coupled with some Mexican influence– the cross between country and rock music.
All I know is that when I saw the Old 97s in concert at Hermann Hall in December, I stood as close to the stage as I could. I jumped up and down, and screamed along with songs like “Murder (Or A Heart Attack)” in a way that I’ve seen teenagers at Warped Tour do, but not me. I have dignity. I have composure. But I didn’t, in the face of this music. When I saw the Old 97s, I got baptized into the noise. And now, when I’m feeling lost, I can put “Wreck Your Life” on. I know every word: of course, I feel like it knows me, too, which is the test of a good album.
Joel McHale/ Dave Eggers/ Satellite Rides
God, I take a one-week sabbatical, and it feels like I’m a completely different person writing these things. It’s crazy!
First: I’m 23 today, which means I’m officially having a mid-life crisis (no one has any money past the mid-forties, what with my accident/stress record). This is great, as it enables me to start taking crazy trips, meet people, make friends, and live with reckless abandon.
Oh. Wait. That’s already what I do.
And I started that off in Indianapolis on Friday night! My best friend Maggie (who is the only person mentioned on this blog more often than Josh Ritter), who is incredible, planned an awesome birthday road trip extravaganza, and we drove up through Bloomington (my favorite city) to stop at Landlocked Music (my favorite record store!). I bought out their Okkervil River stock that I didn’t have (he-LLO, “Down the River of Golden Dreams” and “Don’t Fall In Love With Everyone You Meet,”) but was surprisingly unable to find “Furr”– again. This album is making top ten lists EVERYWHERE, people. Where is it? Where is the hard copy?
Then we drove up to Bloomington and saw Joel McHale from The Soup. It was pretty much the funniest show I’ve ever seen, and I died a couple tiny deaths from laughing too hard. He told a few celebrity jokes, but like any other comedian, his best jokes were about his young kids and his wife. He actually stuck around after the show and signed stuff and took pictures. Soon, I will upload a picture of us. 
Then we had a glorious drive back and stopped at a vintage store, where I got an awesome 1970s vintage dress. In conclusion, Maggie is the best, and there’s absolutely no way I would have rather spent my birthday. <3
***
I think the sign of a good short story is that it pervades your consciousness in a way that you can’t anticipate. Like, you read it, and it’s pleasant, but a couple of months later, an image or a phrase jumps at you, and you know where it’s from, and all of the sudden, you have to read it again. Dave Eggers is the king of this kind of writing for me. I’ll read an Eggers essay and get through it, and a couple of weeks afterward, what he was saying will hit me, and it’s like my chest is a bicycle wheel, and it’s hissing air quickly like when you first take the cap off to re-inflate. It’s a completely different kind of deflation than I usually know.
I experienced that this morning. Published in his awesome collection of short stories (and a slightly abridged version appears on McSweeney’s: that, I’ll link to on here), “Your Mother and I,” is the story of two people– the man telling the story and the love of his life– fixing all of the problems in America and all of the ways they did it. And it’s being told to his kid while they’re trying to set up for some silly party. (It’s spliced with questions like, “Did we get the right kind of cheese? Oh, yes, where was I…”)
What made me think of this story? My mother said, “We went to the grocery, your father and I,” and just the pattern of her language made me wake up and want to read this story again. That’s an incredible power.
READ “YOUR MOTHER AND I” HERE: Your Mother and I
***
The Old 97s are known for their tunes about boozin’ and ramblin’. This is one of the things I love about them. (Lyrics like,
“I’m not talkin’ ’bout tomorrow, I’m talkin’ ’bout tonight
You told me you were drunk already, that don’t make it right
You want at me, well have at me, ‘cos I’m in the mood to fight
And it’s a long way back to El Paso”
really sum up their catalogue.) That being said, on “Satellite Rides”, they are able to keep the skepticism, all while perfecting love songs. This is, of course, the album that the infamous earworm “Question” was originally released (and if you’ve never heard the Old 97s, I’m willing to bet you still know “King of All of the World,” the song that kicks this one off), but those are actually not the songs that got my attention this weekend.
“Bird in a Cage” is my favorite love song of the moment, and it’s exciting, because I can actually explain WHY. Brilliantly, Rhett Miller (have I mentioned yet that he’s a home town boy? Miller representing DALLAS, baby.) (*Of course, he wrote a song recently that includes the lyric, “Big D little, AKA the city of hate/ Deep in the big black heart of the Lone Star state”… I guess we’re both conflicted about home?) has crafted the perfect love song lyrics. And he has done this by adding enough specificity in the verses that it feels personal– and being vague enough in the chorus that anyone can put their story into it.
The song begins,
I left you last night on the left coast
I’m writing you a letter right now
The things that you do
Are rendering you
Something I can’t live without
But he immediately jumps into something a little more universal:
Maybe, maybe, I’ve got a reason, for living even though I’m so tired
A bird in the hand is worth a bird in the cage, is worth on a telephone wire”
The rest of the song is staggered in the exact same way. My favorite verse is,
I left you last night on the left half
Of the bed, the half that used to be mine
The way that you sleep
Is the image I’ll keep
Always on the edge of my mind”
The play on words (“left/left”) is really common in their style of semi-aggressive country rock, but the story in these five lines is vivid and clear. It’s a great example of simple, effective songwriting.
Don’t think that Miller has forgotten what’s important, though. He also wrote songs about forming casual relationships that will eventually devestate him. (And what a beautiful gift it is, to have such a self-destructive person in our midst: His destruction always leads to incredible insight.) (*Rhett Miller is now happily married. The music is still good. I’m not sure how he did it, but hats off, man.)
“Buick City Complex” is one of my favorite songs all the time, and it starts with the blunt line, “Do you want to mess around?/ Do you want to spend the night?/ Yes, I’ve known both kinds of love/ But I want to get it right this time.” It goes on to have such jewels as, “Do you want to mess around?/ I mean, deep down in your bones?/ In hotel swimming pools/ On public telephones.” This is a guy with his priorities straight.
ALSO GOOD:
“Rollerskate Skinny,” (featuring a line I wish I’d never told anyone about, “No one’s ever gonna see eye to eye/ With a girl who can only stand collarbone high”)
“Designs on You” (which has the line, “You can go ahead and get married/ This will be our secret thing/ I won’t tell a soul/ Except the people in the nightclub where I sing”)
“Am I Too Late?” (…yeah, I like this song, sue me.)
“Weightless”
“Singular Girl” (later, a different version was re-released on one of Miller’s solo albums. Also a good version, but the roughness on this is really honest and sincere.)
I recently saw an interview with Rhett Miller, and he was asked what he hoped to accomplish with their latest disk, “Blame it on the Gravity.” His response?
RHETT MILLER: I want these songs to be useful.
Like the rest of the Old 97s back catalogue, “Satellite Rides” is useful. Don’t be put off by the more commercial sound. It’s worth a second (and third, and fourth) listen.
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